Galactic Civilizations: Sivil War
by BoloBouncer
Summary: The galaxy has been fully colonized and the first Galactic War has erupted between the Humans and Drengin in a remote border system called Sivil.
1. Prologue: Task Force Daedalus

November 1, 2227

Ensign Leo Shaw aboard _USS Daedalus_

**Task Force Daedalus**

Dear Lisa,

I know I shouldn't be worried, but I am. We just passed Rathra IV on approach to the Sivil system. We're to relieve Task Force Rhea under Admiral Pollard. He's the foolhardy man who begged Starfleet Command to let him push deeper into Drengin territory. They caved after he took out every Drengin defender in the system. I think this was partly his recklessness. We just don't know how many ships lay out there, flooding in beyond sensor range. I think it was also payback for the Tannhauser incident.

Who can really take the blame? It's only been two years since the other races snatched up our Hyperdrive technology and took to the stars. For a year, all we heard was how amazing Hyperdrive is. Then all we heard was, "I hope the _Expanse_ gets to Haber III before the Torians" or, "The Arceans got Severus II, but we took Severus V!" Then the Design Bureau comes up with the Initial Class because Command insists on minimum defense for our planets. Surely the galaxy wouldn't go to war so soon. We barely had our pants on with Impulse Drive when the Drengin declared war.

I remember about five years ago when we were on our picnic in Brittany. France was amazing. That night we watched the moon, our single moon. You remember? I remember that I figured out you were ticklish. I also admit that when I saw the moon, it made me think of how many more moons there could be, how many more planets. It's always made me think that. There was magic that night. Then I had to take you back to the hover port with only half my clothes on.

You can be proud. I am serving on the first Daedalus Class. We've got three Pioneers with us, the _Courageous_, the _Agincourt_, and the _Hastings_. Rumor is Admiral Pollard wanted the _Agincourt_ in his battle group. It just wasn't commissioned in time. Apparently the old man has an obsession for ancient battles. I'm serving onboard with some of the best Starfleet has to offer. I laugh every time I write that word. Starfleet. Did you know they show Star Trek movies in the galley as morale boosters? I have to admit that I've watched a few. They can call us Starfleet all they want, design our ships like little _Enterprises_, throw in these morale boosters all day long, and at the end of the day we're still just junking around in tiny ships with laser guns.

We're not allowed to talk about the Incident. The Design Bureau got it bad after that one. Didn't they fire all the upper echelon? It wasn't their fault. We'd never fought in space before. I thought putting the Mark IV Lasers on a cargo hull sounded like a good idea. Those things are tons bigger than our Pioneers and even the Daedalus. The cargo design just wasn't designed for this type of warfare. Those Drengin bullets tore right through the hull. I don't even remember the names of those two ships. It's been erased from all formal records that I'm aware of. To think it happened right where we're going: Sivil. It's only been a few months, but Pollard's wiped their solar system clean. Won't be much left for us to do but guard the place until troop transports arrive to take the planets- if Command decides on that course of action.

In the meantime I've been watching the Galactic Olympics. I watched George Jones beat that Arcean in the 100 meter! That was amazing. George was half his size. Guess the Arceans just weren't used to the extra gravity. That one Drengin actually broke his pole halfway up in the vault. I laughed my ass off. That's a morale killer. I think we should show that clip to Drengin prisoners.

I'm off to tweak the navigational systems. Say a little prayer for the _Fearless_ crew. Besides the two ships, they're the only ones who have been lost out here. I'm glad someone up in Command cares about our lives enough not to just throw them away. Give your family my love,

Leo

Dear Dad,

As per your request, the _Daedalus _is outfitted with the latest Mark III Impulse Drive and four, read it, _four_ Mark V Laser emitters. We can run-and-gun on any Drengin that comes within eyeshot. They've used missiles against some of our ships and some second and third generation space cannons but nothing that has left our fleets worse for the wear. The conflicts have all been on the border inside their territory. No Drengin fighter has entered our space, and I'm here to make sure it stays that way.

The Task Forces use Deep Space Six just off Rathra as a stepping stone into Drengin territory. The base is a threat to any invasion they would throw at us and, because of its placement, all their attempted incursions have come the way of Ivey. That's a long way to get around a starbase. It gives us plenty of time to see and intercept them. The Drengin are mounting huge losses. I hear that Starfleet is putting out a bigger ship design in a few weeks. By the first of the year we'll have something substantial to throw at the Drengin.

I can't believe I haven't seen Earth in a year. Until then, if you need your son, he'll be on the fleet's most advanced ship blasting Drengin back to their hairy mothers,

Leo


	2. Prologue: Task Force Yor

May 15, 2228

Ensign Leo Shaw aboard _USS Daedalus_

**Task Force Yor**

Dear Lisa,

We're in it. We're in it up to our eyeballs now. I can't believe we've been reassigned to the Yor front. I want to be liberating Noldor II, taking it back from those damned Arceans. Mostly, I want to be in Sivil. I want to be there when they take Sivil IV. This war, these wars, started there. They should end there.

Sivil II was a simple matter. Command wasn't stingy with the troops. We took the planet without losing a ship. The Drengin got theirs. Unfortunately, now our people can look into the sky at night and see Sivil IV orbiting, chocked full of Drengin, surrounded by our meanest ships, and completely untouchable. Command Logistics says they've never seen so many troops. No matter how many waves we throw at the planet, the Drengin slaughter them to a man. Our ships pummel the planet with asteroids every time, and every time it is still not enough to dislodge those damned aliens. Now the Drengin have gotten the Yor and Arceans involved. Noldor II fell. First planet we've lost. No planet is safe.

We've stopped pushing outward. Now we're doing our best to hold our own against bigger and meaner ships. Starfleet commissions almost ten new vessels each week to keep up. Last week, they were all new Comet classes, the kind armed to the gills with Plasma Beams. I'd feel better with a few of those at my back. Yes, everything here looks like a Star Trek ship. I've watched more of the movies. Our Task Force is the _Daedalus_, _Phaeton_, _Navaga_, and _Courageous_. That's two Daedalus Class and two Pioneer. The Pioneers are taking more and more casualties as of late. The _USS Haifa _was destroyed last week in a battle with the Drengin. Her, the _Weekhawken_, and the _Holland_ took out the Drengin fleet, but she was lost in the process.

I was talking to a fellow officer. She mentioned the pools on Bellatrix Prime. They've got that green mist and smell like clover. Your favorite smell. We're going to go there. If I have to jump ship to come get you, we're going there. We'll go at night when the tentacle pines reach up at the stars. It looks like they're dancing, I hear. We can watch them all night.

Leo


	3. Chapter One: The Skeleton Crew

Shaw had been on his back, crushed against the cold metal floor for an hour. He fiddled with wires, cutting and prodding. They dangled all around him. Greens, reds, yellows, blacks.

He was a dark man of French heritage. He had black, bushy brows and olive skin. He blended well with the cold, primer hue of the _Daedalus_ bridge. The view screen showed nothing but empty space. Shaw wasn't looking, anyway.

It was midnight. A skeleton crew consisting of Ensign Shaw, Junior Chief Engineer Alice Rhodes, and Security Chief Ryan "Razor" Strickland kept watch over the silent space. Apart from Shaw's tinkering, there was nothing happening.

"Eighty-seven people on this ship and I pull graveyard shift," Alice said. She leaned her pale face against a screen. "No Yor within sensor range. Even if they did pop out—

"It would be a week before we even touch them. I know," Razor said. He looked at her. His jowly cheeks jiggled.

Alice turned away. "Leo, what are you doing?"

She and Razor heard a muffled reply.

"I'm recalibrating the navigational array." Shaw sat up and bumped his head against the console.

Alice and Razor looked at each other while Leo rubbed his face.

"If we get into a fight, I want the Daedalus to be able to turn on a dime, faster than any Federation ship."

Razor shrugged his chunky arms. "We can already turn fast enough. The _Daedalus_ is—

"Going to be outdated in two months," Alice said. She looked at Razor again and watched his droopy features. "Even though we've only been out of space dock six months. We can't help it if every Drengin and Yor ship that comes out of the black has twice as many missiles on it than the last. It's all we can do to keep up, but we can sure as hell try." She tugged at her long, blue jumpsuit and crossed her arms.

Shaw went flat on his back and resumed work. "Anyone on the ship have family on Noldor III?"

"Rodriguez in engineering," Razor said slowly. "Cried for a week. Broke down during a security drill."

"What was Command thinking leaving it unguarded. And right there on the Arcean border!"

The ship shuddered. Razor held the panel in front of him. Alice almost lost her balance.

"I would like to inform the passengers that we will be experiencing some slight turbulence while I fiddle with the steering wheel," said Shaw.


	4. Chapter Two: The Daedalus Dark

Razor followed Alice to her quarters that night. She couldn't hear his fat, soft footsteps over the creaking and hissing of the maintenance tubes. His large figure was well hidden under the dim after-hours lighting.

Razor breathed slowly and wiped his hands on his uniform. His stripes and patch for "Valor Under Fire" couldn't be seen in the murk. He could see Alice's silhouette when the door to her quarters opened, throwing a blanket of light into the hallway over her.

"I'll be damned," Razor whispered to himself. He was sweating.

He had followed Alice for several nights. Usually, Razor waited until she started yawning and stretching dramatically. Then he would wait a few more minutes for good measure and say in a quiet voice, "You're relieved, Alice."

She always grinned. It was usually the only grin Alice would give to him all day. Her big lips reached up to her cheeks. She bowed and turned straight around toward the Bridge door.

It was a joke. To be relieved of duty meant that Razor had, without authorization, court-martialed her. Every night Razor fired Alice. Every night he waited until she was out of earshot. Then he took some service tunnels to catch up with her in the dark.

Razor saw something that night as he spied, and he was in no rush to tell anybody.

At least not yet.


	5. Chapter Three: The Morning After

Leo smelled breakfast and heard the boom-bah of a big band playing in the mess hall. He walked in to see all the early duty officers smiling and laughing and spinning in their chairs. Admiral Pollard stood in the middle of the room with a glass of orange juice in one hand and a donut in the other. The man had sharp, blonde hair that was streaked back. There was a ravine in the middle of his head where the hair was missing entirely. It looked like the man had a reverse mohawk.

"I always say, at times like this, it's better to party and remember what you have," the Admiral said. Leo noticed a scar just under the his chin. "And then go out and blast those suckers on a full stomach."

He was talking to a few of the weapons officers. Leo ambled around them and grabbed a plate. He spooned over some eggs and grabbed a little bacon. The tongs clinked against his plate, and the Ensign took another opportunity to look back over at the Admiral. Leo Shaw heard a lot of stories about the man, the Admiral who had pushed so deep into Drengin territory that one journalist wrote, "Admiral Michael Pollard has been into the armpit of the Drengin Empire and lived to tell about the stench."

Shaw took a seat alone. He grabbed a fork and poked at his food with one hand and traced invisible lines on the table with his other.

"Still rerouting the navigational array," Razor said and thumped down in the chair directly across from Leo. He set down a tray covered in food. "I bet you dream about it."

Leo looked up. "I do sometimes."

"I wish I could stay that involved in my work," Razor said. He patted his eggs with a spoon. "I have family on Sivil II."

Leo stopped tracing.

"I know. 'Is this your morning for bonding, Razor?' You're always one for the jokes, Shaw."

"Actually, I'm not in a very joking--

"I used to ferry tomato harvests from Keldar V to its third moon and back. They have a curing facility there. I know the woman who coordinates their building and supply materials. Back when they first cured cancer two centuries ago, it was one of my great grandmothers that provided the funding for the first extract center to be established."

"She paid for people to synthesize tomatoes," Shaw said, his mouth half full of egg.

"Lo and behold, two hundred years later, her relatives are still working on the same thing."

Shaw chewed quicker. He didn't look enrapt with the story.

"It was only a year and a half ago. I was unloading crates one day when I noticed one that was way heavier than normal. Usually when that happened, it meant that someone had left a harvesting tool in the mix. But there was this smell. Something so rotten that I thought it was a dead animal."

Razor shoveled in some more food. The band hit a raucous crescendo.

"I could barely carry this thing as is. I dropped the crate and put my hands over my nose. Then I hear this 'oomph.' Then I hear snorting."

Leo looked up.

"Well, I called in security. They surrounded the crate, popped it open, and sitting there, doused in tomatoes, is the first Drengin I ever saw. A really small sucker, only a few feet tall, maybe genetically engineered to be a better stowaway."

"That's like right next to Earth," Shaw said.

"My family came with me to the government center to be briefed about what not to do now that I knew what I knew. While we were there, the Imperials started the initial roundup for colonists to send to Sivil II."

Razor tapped his plate.

"The galaxy is getting a whole lot smaller."

The band stopped playing. Admiral Pollard hushed the morning crew and postured to speak.


	6. Chapter Four: The New Orders

Razor leaned forward on his flabby arm.

Admiral Pollard turned in a circle, hushing the morning conversations. "We are still alive."

Shaw moved his chair to get a better position.

"We, the Federation, are engaged in a war on three fronts, and I can count on two hands the number of ships that we've lost."

Members of the band set their instruments into holders. One of the cooks began gathering plates.

Pollard, dressed in black-and-red Admiral garb, raised his hands and smiled. His silver hair was checked with remnants of black. His nose curved like a warlock's, but his hands were strong. He used them to compose the room.

"The Yor do not deserve rank as one of our enemies. They are machines, robots, androids. They show the least resolve. _This_ Task Force has seen that firsthand. You've done an excellent job taking those gear-grinders to school. They sit now, beyond our borders, waiting for the Federation to swoop in and began taking planets. They are scared that we will do what they want to do."

Wisps of blue space dust curled and disseminated past the windows.

"But you will not be here to see it." He looked around. "We're moving you back to Sivil."

Shaw clenched his fists. He gripped the table and forced a hideous smile. "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes."

"Sivil," Pollard continued, "Is where this conflict began. Without urging from the Drengin, the Arceans and Yor would never have gotten into this conflict. Without the warmongering Drengin, there would never have been need for any of this."

He stepped down and began walking between the tables.

"The Federation is not about conquering. It never will be. I would love to take every planet from here to Drengi Prime. It's not realistic, though. Billions have already died trying to take Sivil IV. That's one planet. The ship-to-ship combat has been polite, upfront, and clean. We've lost a few dozen good officers to combat in space. Ground combat has been horrific."

Razor threw a glance to Shaw. They both nodded and cast their eyes downward.

"As of 0800 tomorrow, your course will take you to the Sivil system. From there, Task Force Daedalus will meet up with Task Force Lion and combine in a joint effort that will remained classified until you reach your destination."

He stopped in the middle of the room again and wiped his forehead.

"As for the Captain situation, as all of you know, Captains have been removed from our warships indefinitely. Our Commanders and Admirals out here are doing just fine. At home, we're testing out new procedures and working on some new plans that require the presence and time of Starfleet's best and finest. I realize a ship without her Captain is not a nice thought, but the Commanders are doing their jobs superbly. They were trained for this, and rest assure, when we are done, the _Daedalus_ and every other ship in the fleet will have her Captain back."

After the Admiral stepped down and the mess quieted, Shaw helped the staff clean up. Razor leaned against a wall.

"You think," Razor said, "that I should run more drills."

Shaw shrugged and didn't look up. He stacked some plates. "I don't know Razor. If you're trying to read my mind, you're doing a sad job."

"I think I should run more drills," Razor whispered. He reached around the end of the bar and pressed a comm panel. "Battle stations! Battle Stations! I repeat, this is Lieutenant Strickland ordering all crew to battle stations. Yor attack fleet inbound! Move! Move! Move!"

Shaw stopped and raised an eyebrow in Razor's direction.

Security Chief Lieutenant Ryan "Razor" Strickland smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Crew members fell past each other in the metallic hallways. They turned corners blindly. They fumbled for door panels. They pawed around for weapons.

"I want a full report," Razor said, pushing another panel in the middle of a busy corridor. "Get me statistics. I want armament conditions, squad reaction times, alertness assessments. If someone's breathing too slow, you're going to tell me about it."

Shaw passed him and tagged the Chief on his shoulder. "Speaking of slow." The Ensign darted down the hallway. He turned a corner and ran a few meters to where the hallway ended at ladder. Shaw pulled himself up, popped a hatch, and emerged next to his seat on the Bridge.

"So user friendly." He plopped down and spun in his chair. "Where's the Commander?"

The rear door the bridge buzzed open, and a tall, slender man with orange hair strolled through. "This is Commander Alec Riatvin reporting. Tactical, I need weapon status. God forbid they give us any defenses to play with." The Commander sat in his black chair, center of the Bridge.

"Nav, let's say for kicks that our point attacker is at 317 mark 215. Ten thousand meters and closing at single impulse. I want you to set a course that'll take us just under his nose and wait to engage on my say so." The Commander's voice started to go raspy. He grabbed his throat. "Tactical, I need that weapon's report." He spun around. "Damn it, where is Razor?"

The door buzzed open again. "Ryan "Razor" Str--"

"Take your post," Riatvin said. "Just give me weapons status." He turned to the empty viewscreen. "Then assess it against the most advanced Yor ship we've seen yet. After that, tell me how best to blow it out of the water."

"Yes, sir." Razor went to work.


	7. Chapter Five: The Acting Captain

Alice popped up through the hatch next to Ensign Shaw and rushed to her station. Neither Shaw nor Razor bothered giving her a glance. They were both busy working in calculations.

Commander Riatvin tapped the panel on his armrest. He looked out at the stars. His eyes traced the outline of a Yor frigate that wasn't there. The Commander slowed his breathing. "Status, Razor."

"All four laser emitters online. Suggest we target their secondary hull between impulse drive and main power supply."

The Commander nodded. "Good choice, but you're forgetting that these are robots we're dealing with, Mr. Razor. They'll be able to plug back in and work around it manually." He kept staring at the screen.

Razor looked up at the screen, too. "No, sir. Yor dependency on electric and plasma currents prevents manual override between main power supply and critical systems."

Alice turned from her station and stood next to Razor. "Common knowledge of mapped-out Yor ship designs shows a buffer between these systems and main power to prevent common feedback loops that occur all the time. With so many Yor plugged in to the same circuitry, all working at once--"

"They could all get fried with none left functioning to tell the tale," Razor finished.

"That's good enough for me," Commander Riatvin said and tapped at his panel. "Throw us in under their nose just out of weapons arc, and someone alert the other ships to the fact that we're running a battle simulation. I don't want them to see fireworks and start getting worried."

He tapped a few more buttons. "Engage, Ensign."

The ship's engine shown a bright blue as it hummed into action. The ship shook and moved forward. The bow and secondary hull dipped a little under the rear-pushing pressure of the Mark III Impulse engine.

"Inertial dampeners holding," Alice said. She looked paler than normal.

Razor patted her back. "The shimmies are nothing to be worried about. Yor ship maintaining course," he said and leaned forward, his face almost pressed into the tactical panel.

Shaw looked back at the Commander. "We are closing on target coordinates."

"Bring us to a steady halt," Riatvin said. "Razor, keep your target. They're going to pass right over us. I want you to fire right before they fly past. The explosion should throw them up and off without filling our engines full of debris."

"They're maintaining course," Razor said again. "Lasers armed."

The ship shook.

"I said a steady halt, Ensign." The Commander leaned forward.

"Yor ship preparing to run-and-gun," Alice said and looked at the empty screen with everyone else.

"All hands, brace for firing sequence." The Commander looked up and smiled. "By all means, tactical. Show them the door."

"Firing lasers, concentrated beam."

The ship shuddered. Shaw held onto the console to keep from falling. Alice held against the wall. Razor smiled.

The shaking stopped. Everyone was still. Shaw pushed back in his chair, trying to get situated again.

"God, she's got some power, doesn't she?" Riatvin said. Everyone stayed quiet. "Alright. As Commander and acting Captain of the USS _Daedalus_, I would like to congratulate you all on a job well done." He started tapping the panel again. "Razor, I expect those reports on my desk the second you get them. Mr. Shaw, nice driving. I know this ship wasn't made to carry such a load, but here we are." He stood up and walked to the rear door exit. Without turning, he said, "Next time we run a battle simulation, it'll be against Drengin ships." The door closed behind him.

Alice's eyes darted from ground to panel to door. Razor held her shoulders and laughed a little. Shaw turned to them.

"That was not a normal firing shimmy," the Ensign said. "You've been tweaking the emitters. The only thing I want to know is where you got the extra power from."

Razor looked up innocently. Alice turned to her panel and brushed off her uniform. "At moment of fire, I show severe power drains from inertial dampeners and food preservation."

"So it wasn't enough that you had to make me look bad," Shaw said and smiled. "But you had to ruin dinner, too."

"Oh, it was only momentary." Razor leaned against his console. "I'm sure the chef didn't notice a thing."

"Well, the Commander sure didn't." Alice turned around and smirked. "And I need to go get the science reports."

_Nav Comm reading normal, _Daedalus. _You are venting from main impulse. Repeat, minor plasma leak on main impulse._

"That's the _Phaeton_," Alice said before walking out the door.

"And that calls for a--" Razor pushed a comm panel. "Repair team to main impulse deck. Hustle! We've got a plasma leak boys, and you've got reports to turn in." Razor let go of the button. "Want me to break the steering wheel for you, Shaw? Give you something to do."

"Oh, no," the Ensign replied and rubbed his cheeks. "I think I'll turn in a Nav report today. We passed some space dust out there, you know."

Razor was already out the door.


	8. Chapter Six: The Commander's Office

"Here's the Nav report, sir," Shaw said and placed the thick, book-like pad on Riatvin's cold, metal desk. He turned to walk out of the room.

Riatvin, his hair shock red like the initial burst from a phasor blast just before it screams across the room to shake its target awake into its own full, red alert status, tapped his desk and said, "Ships don't spontaneously throw plasma."

Ensign Shaw stopped. The rough, blue color of his uniform looked darker in the dim light of the Commander's office. He turned his head slightly. Shaw had only met Riatvin recently when the Captain was pulled away to Starfleet's clandestine meeting on Earth. He never seemed to know what to expect when the Commander took over.

"That wasn't a normal firing shudder." Riatvin stood and rapped his knuckles hard against the desk. He reached for the data pad the way one reaches cautiously for a present they've received from a stranger. He looked down at the pad and tapped a few buttons.

Shaw took a small step forward.

"Ensign Shaw, you will stand ready. Leave when I tell you to leave." The Commander didn't look up from the pad. He bit the inside of his lip. The air from the ship's ducts poured over the men. "Why don't you explain to me some of the tweaks you've made to the navigational systems?"

Little Leo Shaw had played in the East Texas woods as a child. Many days, he had tramped through the thick deciduous undergrowth with his brothers. Sapphire skies often dropped into thick, purples hues over the forest leaving the canopy a looming silhouette just before dark. His brothers would always run home before him. The boy always trailed behind, skipping and falling over sticks and piles of leaves herded by the wind. He ran like something was following him.

"Waves," Shaw said and turned his head a little more. "There are fewer particles in space, but what particles there are form waves. Each system we travel to has a different density and makeup in terms of waves. I was just adjusting. May I be excused, sir?"

"No, not yet. Turn at attention, Ensign."

Shaw turned and stood straight. He looked past the Commander and out the window.

"I know there hasn't been much action. We've been on a pretty direct course." Riatvin said the last few words slowly as if the entire course of life were in question and not just that of a lone Federation starship drifting in a galaxy infinitesimally larger than its purpose. "I know you, Razor, and Alice are the experienced officers on this crew. You've all been here the longest. I know Commanders and Captains don't seem to matter when it comes to the camaraderie of a ship's crew."

Shaw nodded.

"Just tell Razor to be careful." The Commander waved his hand, dismissing the Ensign.

"Sir, I'd like a chance to file a more comprehensive report," Shaw replied.

"You're dismissed, Ensign Shaw. It's fine." Riatvin sat and placed his palms against the back of his desk. "This report looks fine."

"No, I mean a very comprehensive report."

"Go on, Ensign."

"You know how I told you that space is made of waves and that the density and flow changes? There's a lot more to it than that. I've been in different Task Forces on different ships studying anomalous waves since I've joined Starfleet. Every system is different, but each has underlying constants, patterns that follow certain laws of physics and—

Riatvin shook his head. "That sounds good. You want to do a scientific study. Just don't let it interfere with your duties."

"No, you don't understand." Shaw tensed. "In every system in the entire galaxy, waves share the same constants except right here on this ship. I've been trying to fix the navigational systems because I thought that surely it must be faulty mechanics. You just don't assume the universe has changed its laws. It must have been the mechanics. I've tested and tested and tested. I've spent all my time on that bridge, and I'm telling you, there is something on this ship that is altering the way it interacts with normal space."

Riatvin stared, his head sitting like an open vault. "Have you checked this constant on other ships?"

Shaw shook his head. "No sir, but if even if I could, I know I would find a normal constant."

"Well how do you know?" Riatvin asked. "We might have a whole line of faulty ships."

"No, sir. I'm almost positive it's not the ship. The effect is localized."

"What do you mean the effect is localized? It's localized to this ship."

"Yes, sir, but it's also localized to a certain area of this ship."

"Which area? We have to investigate."

"That's going to be a little difficult, sir." Shaw stepped forward. "A localized power sensor stays where it is. Even fluctuations occur along a fixed circuit. This wave effect occurs in every part of the ship, even those which aren't connected in any logical way."

"Meaning, Ensign?"

"Meaning, I think the disturbance is coming from a member of the crew."


	9. Chapter Seven: The Way of Fate

"Sir, we've got a problem on the Command Deck," said a gangly officer running up behind Riatvin in the corridor. The officer waved his arms. "There are coolant leaks on the main BUS terminals. Sir, nobody can go up there."

Riatvin kept walking. The bright lights flickered in the hallway. Crewmembers passed in groups.

"Sir, we've got to quarantine the entire deck."

Riatvin stopped at the ladder to the Bridge and turned his pale, stern visage to the jabbering underling. "I'm going up."

Five minutes later, Shaw, Razor, and Alice were tripping over themselves in the increasing fog that clouded the bridge.

"We've got to seal those couplings!" Shaw said and almost tripped over his chair.

Razor was banging away under the tactical console. "I'm trying to reroute power to the containment grid."

Shaw laughed and coughed. "You should be getting pretty good at that by now."

Alice tapped the console in rhythmic succession. "I can hold this feed steady for another three minutes. After that, you're going to get a face full of plasma, Razor." She spoke surely. Alice was in her element.

"Navigational readout is a negative," Shaw said and sat at his station. "We've got three minutes before aft thrusters suffocate and start pulling in on the hull."

"I'm feeling a slight vibration here," Razor said. He pushed out from under the console. The hatch behind Shaw's station opened, and Riatvin climbed out.

"So who set my bridge on fire?" he said, sitting in the Captain's chair.

- Commander Bede stood in the center of the bridge on the nearby _Phaeton_. "I need a status report," he said, shifting his portly figure to adjust his uniform.

His tactical officer went to work, and the rest of the Bridge crew looked at the _Daedalus_ on the view screen puffing a white-blue cloud. The ship listed to its rear, pointing vertical away from its course.

"This is Commander Bede to the _Daedalus_. Come in _Daedalus_. Riatvin, what is going on over there?"

The Commander sat back down and bit his lip. "Why aren't they responding?"

"They probably busy, sir," his tactical officer replied. "According to these scans, and judging from the exterior hull damage, they've got about two minutes."

"Two minutes before what?" the Commander asked. His voice was rough and intolerant.

The _Daedalus_' aft thrusters shimmied from a lack of plasma in their normal feed. Internal sparks from the overworked electrical systems ignited what fuel was left in the lines, sucking out the remaining oxygen. The _Phaeton_'s crew watched as the rear hull of the _Daedalus_ crumpled in on itself like an aluminum can.

- Back on the _Daedalus_, Razor was pounding at the inner workings under Tactical.

"What's taking so long?" Riatvin asked, not leaving his chair.

Shaw turned to him. "We're trying to get emergency plasma back into the thrusters. If we let it in too fast, we'll lose all power to the rest of the ship, and then they'll probably explode instead of implode."

"I'm letting it back in gradually," Razor said, "but we've got a problem."

Alice pounded the console. "There's air in the pipes."

Razor banged around some more. "No, there's space in the pipes. The ignited plasma sucked out all the air."

Riatvin got up and went to join Alice and Razor. "So what do we have to do?" He stumbled in the fog.

Razor slid out from under the station. "I'm not sure there's anything we can do."

Riatvin hit the wall panel. "Evacuate the ship. I repeat, evacuate the ship as quickly as you can."

"Wait," Shaw said and stood up. He joined the three at the rear of the Bridge. "We can blow oxygen into the pipes and send that plasma back all at once."

"That's exactly what we're not trying to do," Razor said. "You'll blow the ass right off the ship."

Alice shook her head.

"No." Shaw looked at both of them. "There's a waste gate for excess plasma that leads off into the incinerator. The secondary hull."

"Yes," Razor replied, "but that waste gate is made to handle a few quarts of plasma. Not dozens of gallons. And we need to go." He turned to leave, and Shaw grabbed his arm.

Riatvin separated them. "You'll blow up the damned ship."

Shaw went to work at a nearby panel. "In a minute, she's going to blow up anyway."

- A moment later, he was no longer Ensign Leo Shaw. He was a silhouette of a boy in the cold woods at sunset. The wind didn't whisper through the trees. It crackled like a mass of electrons freeing themselves from the static world. The boy could feel the electricity climb up his arms slowly. Then it started to rain, and the water falling through the trees was the sound of a hundred academy students flipping through their textbooks in a cacophonous flutter.

Shaw was sitting in his chair next to Rebecca Baumgartner. He smiled, having remembered her name. The tall professor out front had white hair and only one real arm. Shaw laughed, and the laugh echoed through the empty lecture hall. Everyone was gone: the professor, Rebecca.

Then he was sitting under the stars. There was no forest, but it was dark. The grass felt gooey under Shaw's hands.

"What planet is this?"

Lightning crawled through the starlit sky. It spoke.

"_Phaeton_ to _Daedalus_."

The lightning disappeared, and a wind kicked up. It also spoke.

"Come on. Let's get him into the shuttle."

Somewhere in the distance, the black sky opened up. Shaw could see a hallway and crewmembers scrambling through.

Another flash of lightning preceded another wisp of wind.

"_Daedalus_, you are completely vertical."

The opening in the sky beckoned Shaw, but the Ensign turned around to see the woods behind him.

"It's always there." He heard Lisa's matter-of-fact voice. The stars overhead began to disappear, and the last voice wasn't from a crackle or a gust. It welled up from inside Shaw. He felt it vibrate past his heart and into his chest before all went black.

"_Daedalus_, we're following you in."

- "What the hell have they done?" Commander Bede said. He had watched as the resurgent plasma shot through the _Daedalus'_ rear thrusters. It looked controlled enough, venting into space evenly until a bright orange glow started to emanate like waves around the ship. It blew what appeared to be a hole in space wide open just under the tail of the upright ship.

"Sir, we're getting readings from the other side," one of Bede's officers said from behind. "I'm reading twenty-three outposts, a starbase, and--

Bede turned and looked at him.

"It's a planet, sir. Sivil IV."

Bede started to talk. His shoulders sagged. He couldn't seem to find the right expression.

"Commander Bede, look." The officer pointed at the screen.

The bright, gaping rift sucked the _Daedalus_ down like a tall rock into quicksand.

Bede straightened up. "Report. Is that taking them to Sivil? Are they even going to make it there in one piece?"

"From what I can tell, sir, it's a direct path. No interference. Sensors are showing that rift is like a doorway, not a tunnel. And that is Sivil IV on the other side."

Bede bit the inside of his lip. "I want constant scans and reports. Line us up for entry. Alert the _Navaga _and _Courageous_. Then put me through to the _Daedalus_. We're going to follow them in."

- "Sensors show we're falling into something, sir. But they're badly damaged. I can't tell what it is." Alice's hair was matted to half her face under a layer of sweat. Riatvin grabbed Shaw's feet, and Razor grabbed his shoulders.

"Come on," the Commander said. "Let's get him to the shuttle."

A short burst came through the comm system. "_Daedalus_, you are completely vertical."

The bulkheads whined and groaned as Riatvin and Razor carried the Ensign down the corridor. Alice followed. Crew members shot past on all sides. Each one repeated the same thing: "There aren't enough shuttles."

Alice grabbed one of them by the lapel. "What do you mean there aren't enough shuttles?"

The crewman pulled his head back away from her. "The implosion blew all the locks on the port quarter. Half of them just floated into space."

She let him go.

Riatvin nodded to Alice. She hit the wall. "_Daedalus _to _Phaeton_. Can you read me at all _Phaeton_?" She looked back at the Commander. "Comm's shot."

"Let's keep going," Razor said. His big body was soaked. His face was red.

The officers continued down the hall when a screech echoed through the hallway. It crescendoed followed by a pop.

"_Daedalus_, we're following you in."

- "Report."

Bede's tactical officer looked past him to the screen where the _Daedalus_ had fallen halfway into the rift. He coughed. "Admiral Pollard's shuttle has just docked with the _Navaga._ They're going to hold position here until we send a report from the other side."

Bede nodded and stroked his jaw. The Commander let out the smallest laugh.

"Try to get hold of our outposts near Sivil. Let them know we're coming in hot."


	10. Chapter Eight: Time Spent in the Doorway

The wormhole was like a door but the _Daedalus_ passed through it so slowly that Razor was able to recount all of his time aboard the ship in one swooping daydream.

He had met Alice and Shaw the first day. They were both sitting in the mess having breakfast and he hadn't met anyone aboard yet. Ryan "Razor" Strickland was shy. He wasn't yet the hard-grit, tough-as-nails Security Chief that everyone had come to love over the past few months. Even when Strickland had seen his first Drengin as a boy, a two-foot hairy demon climbing out of a crate of tomatoes, he had been scared.

Razor had wanted to leave that shyness, that feeling of solitude, behind. Life as an officer, especially as a Security Officer, meant that he needed to deal with distressing daily issues. What if Yor boarded the ship? What if he had to come face-to-face with living machines ripping his crewmates apart, impaling his friends right before his eyes? What if the Drengin pushed past the Sivil System and straight for Earth? Would he be able to stomach a surrender? Would he be able to stomach a fight to the end? A loss to the Drengin would mean slavery. A loss to the Yor meant extermination.

That first morning had been an uneventful breakfast. Shaw chewed loudly. Razor thought Shaw was Italian. He thought Shaw was annoying and full of himself. He also thought that Alice was hot. Alice, it turned out, was a fixer. She made sure things worked when by all logic, they shouldn't work. She beat pipes with wrenches and tied up loose wires. She rerouted systems and extended communications range. She made bulky ships loaded with people and cargo go faster than ever before and she did all this with her brains and her hands.

Razor had started following her because he had discovered that Alice wasn't human. She really could do anything. She could do things that really were impossible, like saving her ship from an almost imminent plasma overload. The _Daedalus_ was not built to withstand any plasma shock. It was another flawed design. The Bureau updated their ships monthly, not only to keep up the weapons race with the Drengin and Yor, and they lacked the foresight to keep up with the demands of more power being loaded onto incapable vessels. Hull designs and alloys came second to the starship's ability to blast its enemies back into the void.

Razor had been following Alice for months and his first encounter with a Drengin was always in the back of his mind. Did the Drengin genetically engineer tiny stowaways? It was odd but it made the most sense. Couldn't the Yor create an android? Couldn't the Arceans breed down to human size? Something fishy had happened. Maybe Starfleet or the Federation were in on it. Maybe it was an internal matter, not involving any alien races. He had to find out.

In the time it took for the Daedalus to pass through the void, Razor had it all figured out. But he wouldn't live to tell anybody.


End file.
